Chained (Part 1)

All I knew was that I had to escape, I had to survive. As I turned the corner of the alley, I heard him hollering my name, anger and murder evident in his voice.

“I’m gonna get you bitch! And when I do, you’ll wish to God you wasn’t born!”

I pushed ahead, all the while in absolute darkness. My hands were in front of me guiding the rest of me, I turned again and felt the handle of a door. I turned it, and luckily it opened; I leapt inside the doorway, not knowing where it lead. But anywhere was better than getting caught by him.

Inside, I saw that the room wasn’t spacious as it seemed. I went to a corner and hid myself, praying that he would pass.

Shortly, I heard the lock on the door click, and he came in. He was breathing heavily. Even at the back of the pile of boxes, I could see his fiery blue eyes, glinting with pure malice. Oh God, don’t let him catch me again!

His eyes swept the room again, and seeing nothing of interest, he turned to leave. He was out of the door, and was about closing the door, when I felt something wriggling inside my gown. I screamed my heart out, and saw the rat scurry away to safety.

But I had made a mistake in shouting. He turned again, and came directly to where I was. There was no escape this time. I saw in his eyes that he meant to hurt me in the ways only him knew how. He came to the boxes, threw them away, and saw me. My heart was clanging against my chest, I felt he could hear it.

“There you are bitch! I told you I was gonna get you!” He took a handful of my hair and yanked me up. He was spitting saliva onto my face, as he was raining abuses and blows on me. I tried to pry his hands away from my hair, but he was too strong. Twisting myself, I directed a kick to his groin, but he seemed to read my mind and shifted in time just before my leg connected. Infuriated, he punched me in the jaw. I felt as if a giant boulder was thrown to my face.

My legs felt wobbly; my eyes turned, and I saw darkness.


I woke up, groggy and disoriented. I was in my makeshift room in the attic of his house in the suburban part of Venice. My head was bandage, and it felt as if there was a parade of some sort going on there. My hands were full of blisters, and I was naked.

Slowly, and painfully, I remembered the events of the previous night. As I recalled his punch to my face, I felt dizzy again, but I didn’t faint. I tried standing up, but I slumped again under my weight. My legs were too weak. There were footsteps approaching the room, I took my gown and put it on.

He came in, gave me his malevolent smile, and put down the plate he was carrying on the side stool...

...To be continued...

Post a Comment